


Humidity

by PuzlDragon



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Spirit Gate 4, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25513660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuzlDragon/pseuds/PuzlDragon
Summary: Atem stands on sand.He introspects.
Comments: 16
Kudos: 13
Collections: Spirit Gate Round 12





	Humidity

**Author's Note:**

> Ren means holy true name of a person in ancient kemet. A magical and spiritually powerful name, it could also harm a person severely if it was used wrongfully against them. It was said the gods kept this secret from even that person. Because its nature and that it could possibley be discovered with soul magic like in the show, I used this for the name Atem used to seal the demon.

Atem stands on the sand. It is gritty. It is fine. He flexes his toes. It falls like river rivulets in a dance to settle in the grooves. It is hot. The sun beats down upon his skin. Beams into his eyes. The city makes sounds behind him. Atem knew this once. Atem grew up on sand, under heat, near a momentous, and bustling city. Atem grew up there. Five thousand years ago.

  
Five thousand years between he didn't have sand. Or sun. Not cities, nor sound.

  
Atem had a feeling of displacement down to his very soul. A lack of a body. A lack of a name. Not even a heartbeat. Shadows twined around his core.

  
He was an exile, unto himself. Self-inflicted. It was worth it, but he didn't know that. There is a hole inside one's brain that only no memories, no _Ren_ can make in a soul. He spent five thousand years like that. In the dark. In a cold that cannot be felt.

  
Sweat travels down his spine. Sweat from the summer heat. He feels chilled. He shivers.

  
But then he found kindness. The kindness of friends who did their best to support him. But they could do nothing about a chill of an uncovered soul. He knew enough to never even ask. He found a sort of happiness. A light that burned bright in the overpowering shadows he dwelled in. No matter how dark, they stayed beside him. He has thanked them. But he knows they will never understand what it meant.

  
No one will ever understand what it meant. To hold back a demon with your own soul for five millennia. To spend five thousand years in unquenchable shadows. It is alright.

  
Atem would never ask anyone to understand. Atem prays no one ever will.

Atem. Because he is Atem now. Atem, once again. Five thousand years later he stands on shifting sands, under summer heat. The sun is bright. The sands are course. He has found sensation once again. The world once again. Yet the Atem the world has found is a different man.

  
Atem breathes in.

  
The smell of seawater.

  
Atem opens his eyes. Gulls circle over head. A plateau of sparkling waves. Cars rushing on pavement. Atem knows his hair is frizzy. He slides his fingers through its fine disobedience. He turns around. His friends. A volleyball. Pastel towels strewn about.

  
Atem is a different man in a different world. And that might just be okay.


End file.
